( 52) 
[ Feb. ] 3 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
aga 
ON THE NEW YEAR 1809. 
‘T° the long catalogue of time that was, 
_ Another year is added! 
_ Count the various changes of the recent year 
- Within the pale of my immediate view: 
The frequent opening graves which met my 
eye 
And some I knew who went to tenant them: 
The frequent pang which modest worth en- 
dur’d 
Submissive to the power which gave the 
wound bse 
But with it gave a balm that wound to heal; 
Countallthemercies which have mildly shone 
On undeserving memand ah! remember 
How oft the children of affliction pass’d me 
’ With looks which spoke the sufferings that 
they felt, 
Strangers tohealth, and journeying tothe tomb! 
Thenall my follies—all my wanderings count. 
This done--to count the brilliant lamps of 
night 
Or.sands that form the wide-extended beach 
Do not despair! 
Such is the large amount of human frailty, 
And ever varying are the scenes of life! 
To-day, meridian splendor-=to-morrow’s sun 
May rise beclouded, and may set in storms!— 
Has Love entwin’d its silken band around 
thee ? 
Has Hope erected temples near thy heart? 
And hastthou learnt the music of the mind, 
And all the symphonies of sweet content? 
“Yer envious Death delights to burst those 
bands 
To undermine the pillars of our hope, 
To add to sufferiags, by a long remembrance, 
By fixing in our hearts, and in our chambers, 
A. beauteous picture of departed worth! 
And mark how sure does dire misfortune 
pierce 
With double violence a wounded breast, 
How sorrows love to congregate together, 
And, silent, gather up the rankest weed 
That ever grew upon the world’s wide com- 
mon: 
And while their victims close the feverish eye 
The haggard Sisters laugh, and in the cup 
Of life already nauseous to the sense, 
Infuse some new, some untried bitterness, 
Which the half-slumb’ring wretch er’e long 
must drink ! 
But why should Virtue feel such pains severe, 
While Vice rejoices in his high career, 
Unmindful he of man, still more of God, 
. ¥et prosperous gales fill all his earthly sails, 
And health and honours ever on him wait? 
And why should cruel Devastation sweep 
Its tens of thousands from the map of life; 
Torn from their humble toil and lowly dwel- 
ling 
To fight Ambition’s battles? Yet Pity saw 
‘The manly grief, and heard the moans respon- 
sive 
When these poor men were torn from those 
they lov’d; 
Yet Pity saw the little pratlers weep, 
And heard them lisp—<‘* Father will come 
again |= 
And could not Pity intercede with Heaven 
To hush contending nations into peace? 
For Pity trembles for the orpban train 
-And deeply sighs te hear a widow’s name. 
Ah! these are myst’ries but a future day 
Will solve the mighty problems, and remove 
The barrier; where the human mind must halt 
Pondering on mere conjecture. 
Enough for me to know there is a God 
That orders all things well—delightsin Virtue, 
And that which he delights in must be happy« 
I'll usher in the year with new resolves 
In Virtue’s cause—I’1l leave the provinces 
Where the soul pines among an alien race 
Where fruits are seldom seen, or flowers bloom 
To cheer the passing stranger! 
I'll often muse upon the hour of trial 
When I must bid adieu to eyery friend, 
And trace a dreary solitary road—= 
This thought will mend the heart aud raise 
the soul 
Above the gaudy trifles which allure 
The gay and thoughtless children of a day; 
Who live regardless of a future morrow, 
Nor ever look beyond life’s narrow border! 
But stay—another year has just begun— 
My resolutions in the rear aiready! 
Perhaps, e’re long, so distant will they be 
While I am marching thro” a dangerous ¢lime 
That I can never join my strong reserve 
Retreat cut off, and death before my eve 
—Todie, they say, is noble—eas a soldier—= 
But with such guides, to point th” unerring 
road, 
Such able guides, such arms and discipline 
As [have had, my soul would sorely feel 
The dreadful pang which keen reflections gives 
Should she in death’s dark porch, while life 
was ebbing, 
Receive the judzment, and this vile reproach— 
« Long hast thou wander@d in a stranger’s land, 
A stranger to thyself and to thy God3 
‘The heavenly hills were oft within thy view 
And oft the shepherd call’d thee to his flock, 
And cail’d in vain!—A thousand monitors 
Bade thee return and walk in wisdom’s ways. 
The seasons, as they roll'd, bade thee retura; 
The glorious sun in his diurnal round 
Beheld thy wandering and bade thee return; 
The night, an emblem of the night of death, 
Bade thee return: the rising mounds 
Which toldthe traveller where the dead repose 
In tenements of clay, bade thee return: 
And at thy father’s grave, the filial tear 
Which dear remembrance gave, bade thee re 
turn 
And dwellin Virtue’s tents, on Zion’s hill! 
Here, thy career be stay’d, rebellious man $ 
Long hast thou liv’d a cumberer of the ground. 
Millions 
